Type A
by Strawwolf
Summary: Emma Swan is a vampire with a dark and mysterious past. Little does she know that one encounter in a bar with Killian Jones is going to turn her entire world upside down.
1. Chapter 1

Her latest feed hadn't been very tasty. A delivery driver who'd been heavy on the red meat, leaving his blood rich in iron but poor in flavour. She hadn't left herself much of a choice however, going so long between feedings as to leave her desperate for any warm body she happened upon. Fortunately the driver had been sitting in his truck, head bent over a map, phone in his hand, pen cap in his mouth. Easy prey. A pretty smile and a question had gotten him out of the vehicle. A velvet voice and a persuasive gaze put him right where she wanted him in the nearest alley. And she'd bit down hard, sighing as she gulped down that sweet nectar, one hand pulling his hair back to bare his neck, the other holding him steady as she drank him to the ground. At first he'd gasped and then breathed hard into the cold night, subconsciously wrapping his arms around her, as if his brain registered this as some sort of dark rendezvous. She did her best to ignore his wandering fingers, forcing herself not to flinch, waiting as his hands slowly fell away. His head lolled back against the alley wall, a solid thunk against cement before she brought him to earth lying prone, still drinking.

Taking him past the point when she usually finished Emma knew she had to check her hunger. It was an ever-present shadow that drove her, had driven her long before she could put a name to it. In the beginning it had mired her life in blood and chaos, leaving bodies in her wake. She had better control these days but it didn't mean she wasn't aware of how close she strayed to the line, how tempting it was to step over and luxuriate in death and disorder. Reluctantly she pulled off of him, letting the excess drip down her chin in reverie at being sated at last. The aftertaste left something to be desired though. She had no idea when he'd last consumed a vegetable but according to her it wasn't recently. If she hadn't been so thirsty she would have compelled him to eat more fish. Instead she nicked her thumb on a fang and pressed the bead of blood to the puncture wounds on his neck.

He'd wake up woozy but other than feeling confused he shouldn't be away worse off. Emma stood and checked her dress for dirt or tears, smoothing the fabric of imaginary wrinkles. It was always awkward when she was done, even more so if she left them unconscious. Moving around these days she didn't have any regular feeders so she tried not to think about them after she left. They weren't her responsibility after all. She had no obligations to anyone or anything. Not anymore.

Instead she walked over to where she'd hidden her clutch in the bushes and pulled out a mirror. The sight was no shock as she knew she'd made a mess of herself. One glance showed her face, mouth and neck spattered with blood. Fortunately she came prepared and pulled a wet wipe. Careful to remove every last trace of the driver she touched up her lipstick and then pulled out her trusty lighter. Isopropyl alcohol was a boon these days though she would have killed for such a versatile liquid a century ago. Glancing around to check that there were no prying eyes she laid the evidence down on the pavement and quickly set it alight. The material caught quickly, burning away all trace of what she'd done. Satisfied with the ashes she stalked off to find the nearest bar. She needed something to wash away the taste of that driver.

ooooooo0000000000ooooooo

"The Ruby" wasn't the nicest bar in town but it would do in a pinch. Emma walked inside looking for the nearest bartender and slid onto a stool while grabbing a drinks menu. The place was loud and crowded, just the way she liked it. More people meant more drinks and fewer questions. Besides maybe she could have some fun tonight now she'd eaten.

She watched the man behind the bar pop open a couple of beers and fix a few glasses with ice and lime wedges. His hands were fast: popping corks, filling shots, taking money. A decent level of beard adorned his face as he easily talked his way through several customers including one woman with shockingly blonde hair who didn't want to leave him alone. She kept leaning over the bar to talk to him, no doubt fully aware of how low her top was. Emma pursed her lips but then smiled as she watched him tactfully distract the woman with a B-52. If she hadn't just filled up on that delivery driver she might have decided on him. He glanced her way and smiled.

"Anything I can get you miss?"

_You up against a wall maybe._

She put on her best smile and tilted her head.

"Peach bellini?"

"Coming right up." He winked and started in on her drink.

Something that sweet she hoped would drown out all lingering residue leftover from that man and his greasy, greasy appetite. She tried not to shudder at the remembrance of his blood. He probably ate pork rinds and onion rings on a regular basis. She couldn't be sure but his blood had felt sluggish.

_Probably has atherosclerosis._

"Enjoy," he placed a tall glass in front of her, sliding it close with his fingers before turning to help his next customer in need of hydration.

Emma sipped her drink and studied his features. He was cute; he had a nice smile and a laugh that she wanted to hear more than once. He'd started chuckling when one man told a story about how he accidentally lost his wedding ring in a chocolate cake he had made for his wife's birthday. It turned into a full blown guffaw when said wife later discovered the ring by biting down into her slice of cake. Emma smirked. Maybe she could end the night with a bit of fun after all.

"Hey!" She waved at him. He strolled over, wiping a glass clean. "What time are you off?"

He raised an eyebrow before looking past her to check the clock on the wall. "My shift ends when we close up at two."

"And what are your plans after shift?" She leaned forward and smiled.

"I'm going home to my girlfriend. She owns the place." He pointedly looked her in the eye.

"She's a lucky girl." Emma eased back in her seat. She might suck the blood of innocents but she was above stealing men that belonged to others.

"No I'm the lucky one," he chuckled. "Let me know if you want a refill on that," he pointed at her glass before walking away.

While she gulped down the rest of her cocktail and watched him make her another she could feel eyes on her. A human instinct left over from more primitive days, her kind felt it more acutely. Like a prickling at the back of the skull it was enough of a warning to set any vampire on edge.

She shifted in her seat to look out at the room, scanning to see who was likely leering at her. She could only hope it wasn't another one of her kind. Never staying for long in any place it was difficult for her to know if she was trespassing on someone else's turf. She finally discovered her would-be gawker in a man on the other side of the bar. With dark hair perfectly coiffed he was sitting against the wall nursing a half-drunk glass of something dark and he was staring at her. He was staring with bright blue eyes and it was immediately obvious that he wasn't one of her kind. The usual familiar tension, that invisible current that signaled the presence of others was absent. His unblinking gaze might be disturbing but she had nothing to fear. So instead of ignoring him as she normally might have done she stared right back. Overfull and confident she tipped her head and smiled.

_Two can play at this._

For several minutes they sat like that, only interrupted by the occasional body crossing their sight lines. He'd occasionally take a drink and she would respond in kind. Towards the bottom of her drink she started licking her lips at him after every sip, slowing her tongue down with every subsequent swallow, dragging it across her lip. But he showed no outward reaction. It wasn't so unusual that she couldn't get a rise out of man but hyped from her recent meal she was left feeling frustrated at the lack of response. Eventually though their game ended abruptly when a large group of people converged on the space between them and stayed put.

At that point Emma could easily have paid her tab and walked away. But she'd apparently found new prey in this man who didn't seem to want to back down. And she wanted to play. Reaching into her clutch she left two twenties on the bar before ordering another bellini and walking around the group to find the mystery man and bend him to her will.

Approaching his table she noted the sharp suit he was wearing in monochrome colours. A Black vest over a crisp white shirt with rolled sleeves.

_A pocket square and everything. My my._

He was still carrying that stiff look on his face and pointedly seemed to be ignoring her as she came to stand at the side of his table.

"Is this seat taken?" She slid into the chair opposite him without waiting for a response. In her experience once she got her foot in the door she was rarely asked to leave.

"You're rather presumptuous aren't you?" He looked over at her, heavy brows furrowed, mouth set in a line.

"Oh I don't think you were waiting for anyone, at least not anyone that would mind if I took this seat." She watched his brow go up. "There's no way you'd be waiting for another woman while staring at me like that."

_Said the spider to the fly._

Again there was no reaction from him other than a long pull from his drink. She glanced at his hands. He was wearing numerous rings with strange symbols and bright stones, standing in colourful contrast to the watch fob on his vest and the Eldredge Knot on his tie. He was rather fancy for a bar.

"Why were you staring at me, if I might ask?" Perhaps the polite approach would work better. He certainly didn't seem interested in anything else she'd been throwing his way.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes again staring her down. Up close it his gaze was more uncomfortable, as if he was almost too close. She felt like he could see her as she used to be, as if he could peel back all the years in between and call forth her ghost, the frail shadow of her former self crying in the streets for help. Emma forced herself to stay still while keeping her posture relaxed. It felt like interrogation by scrutiny and she was not amused. He might not be a vampire but this definitely wasn't normal.

"I was wondering why you were trying to seduce the bartender when you were clearly repulsed by the blonde who tried it earlier." He offered his explanation almost as an offhand comment; as if it didn't mean that he'd been watching her and the people around her since the moment she'd walked in. He was becoming more interesting by the minute.

"Maybe I wanted to see if he was going to stay loyal to his girlfriend." She shrugged and slumped in her chair. It wouldn't do to show that he set her on edge. Better if he thought she was buzzed.

"I don't think you knew about the girlfriend," he murmured into his glass, catching a piece of ice between his teeth before biting hard and cracking it down the middle.

"And you're telling me you heard all of that from across the room in a noisy bar?" She almost felt like she should check him for fangs.

He looked at her over his glass and offered the first faint tracings of a smile. "I can read lips." She frowned before he added, "Deaf brother."

She nodded as if in agreement though why he had eavesdropped on her conversation specifically she didn't know. Maybe this had been a bad idea. He was attractive after all but arrogant and nosy. And most of all he was rude. Not an emotion she was used to from men. At least not once she'd relaxed them. Emma sighed internally. Was the effort really worth it? Maybe if she could just keep him quiet. After all she had walked all the way over here and she had been looking for some fun. So why not? It was the end of a long day she deserved a little entertainment.

Putting on her best come hither look Emma reached across the table and laid a hand over his wrist. He looked up at her, frowning. But before he could protest she looked him in the eye.

"We're going to leave now and go have some fun." She stared and watched his pupils dilate as she compelled him.

He pulled out of her grasp and slugged back the last of his drink. Grabbing his jacket and coat he stood, straightening his tie. Emma followed his lead as he donned his jacket and offered her his coat, his hands resting on her shoulders for a moment as he brushed off some invisible dust. They both exited the bar onto a silent street. The occasional car drove by but for the most part it was only their footfalls against the pavement, echoing out into the night.

Emma really wasn't in any mood to wait and find a hotel room or go back to his place. She just wanted something fast and dirty to get it out of her system and then go and sleep off the rest of that greaser's blood until tomorrow night. So she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearest alley before looking him in the eye.

"When we're done here you're going to forget you ever saw me. You're going to go home and sleep until morning."

She pushed him up against the nearest building, her hands working at his jacket's buttons.

"Someone's anxious to get started." He gently pulled her hands away by the wrists and undid the jacket himself. "Can't have you ripping anything apart. I paid good money for this." He chuckled.

Emma raised a brow. That was certainly different from what she'd witnessed in the bar. He pulled off his jacket and set it atop an electrical box with deliberate slowness. Then he pulled his coat off of her shoulders and set it aside as well before letting his hands come to rest on her waist. He was warm as he steered her to the wall, the heat from his palms leeching through the dress and into her skin. He stepped forward, pressing against her body before he bent his head and brought his mouth down on her neck, kissing the soft skin he found there, before quickly moving on to licking, sucking and biting, his tongue and teeth exploring that expanse of skin all while Emma urged his onwards with moans and whimpers.

She bit her bottom lip as he continued his ministrations, reaching out to latch onto his arms and draw him closer but instead he withdrew his hands and that delicious warmth from her waist. She almost whimpered in complaint before her brought his hands back to grasp her wrists and press them against the wall, holding her still while he continued his exploration of her neck and collar gone.

_Is this how it feels when I bite them?_

She knew there was a type of euphoria that came with bloodloss and compulsion could help with any reluctance on the feeder's part but she'd only ever been on the receiving end once. And she'd buried that memory so deep that she couldn't even remember how it had felt. Instead she just closed her eyes and sighed.

"Don't move."

His voice cut through her thoughts like a hot knife. She opened her eyes to see him holding two metal spikes, one over her throat and the other over her heart. In his eyes she saw rage and full cognizance which should have been impossible. He'd been compelled! The only explanation had Emma feeling sick.

_A hunter?_

Page | 6


	2. Chapter 2

Emma stared at him in confusion, realizing her mistake too late. How could she have been so stupid? And yet here she was, staring up at one of the few things she truly feared. Hunters were to be avoided at all costs and now she was going to be killed by one.

"If you're going to do it just get it over with," she hissed, angry at herself. This is what happened when she let her guard down. A hunter with a lippy mouth could catch her unawares.

He stared down at her, pushing the metal against her skin, ignoring how she flinched, how the veins under her skin turned black around the spike.

"Now why would I do that when I could be rid of your whole clan instead?" She was surprisingly calm considering the situation. He'd thought she might be newly turned considering how badly she'd failed to hook the bartender. But if that were the case she would have been begging for her life, not glaring at him.

She would have laughed at his presumption if she could but the burning metal at her neck discouraged speech. She could feel her jaw slowly going numb. Mortals were predictable but age and experience had taught her to play along. If she could keep him talking long enough she might have a chance before he incapacitated her. So she kept her stance relaxed, her hands loose.

"And what makes you think I would betray them?" She croaked. She'd escaped his kind before and would do so again. Hunters be damned.

"Because I'm betting you value your life more than theirs."

Killian kept his eyes fixed on her, watching, waiting. This was where his poker experience came in. It was a bluff but it depended on her selfish nature. Immortality had a corrupting nature to it. One that was guarded more jealously with each year that passed and he was counting on this very fact to break any ties of loyalty she might have.

"It doesn't matter what I tell you. You're just going to kill me anyway." She ignored the slowly growing pressure behind her eyes, ignored the smell of burning skin.

He sighed in frustration. They always had tricks, one for every year they'd been an abomination. She was years too late if she hoped he'd fall for the lies that spilled out of her mouth.

"Are you that willing to die? Just a while ago you were looking to drain that bartender."

She sneered at his naivety. "And waste a perfectly good feed? I just wanted a snack and thought I could have some fun."

Emma wondered if the hunter had soaked the spikes in a tincture because she wasn't feeling like herself. There was a pinch in the back of her head and she was overwarm. Her fingers were buzzing as she splayed them against the wall.

She examined his person, looking for weapons or tools he could use against her. If she had to fight she would despite the iron at her neck. But the more she tried to focus, the more her vision blurred. Not one to take unnecessary risks she decided to wait despite the pain she was in and watch for an opening she could exploit. If he was truly that desperate to find other vampires he wouldn't kill her, at least not right away.

"This can be short and sweet or long and painful. Your choice. But you** will** take me to the others."

He pressed the spike tighter against her skin and ignored how her breathing stuttered, how tears formed at the corner of her eyes. But no words came. Not a plea or a curse. He`d admit, she was stubborn. But he wasn't taking any chances here. She was an anomaly. Newbies hunted in packs; seasoned vampires hunted alone. He knew for a fact this wasn`t her territory so where had she come from and why was she here?

There was one way he could find out. He pulled the spike away from her heart he slipped it into his vest and taking out a vial. Uncorking it with his teeth he splashed the liquid down her arm, wondering how long it would take her to break.

She yelped as it burned, leaving behind irritated skin. Wiggling in his grip she grabbed hold of his wrist trying to pull him off but found her strength gone. She couldn't even make a fist to try and break his nose. At that point Emma knew something was wrong. True terror had been absent in her life for so long she hardly recognized it. The feeling brought her back to dark rooms, bright fires and a horrible laugh that had haunted her through the centuries.

"What the hell are you doing!"

_Shit. _Killian turned to see the bartender from _Ruby's_ striding towards him, fists clenched. Lifting his eyes skyward, the hunter cursed any and all deities he could bring to mind. This was **not** how things were supposed to go. But there was no time to explain. Instead he nicked the vampire's neck with the spike. As she shrieked in pain he upended the rest of the vial into her mouth. That should keep her stationary while he dealt with his newest complication.

.oOo.

Graham had quickly tied up the garbage, leaving Benny in charge as he lugged them out the back door of the kitchen. He made a face at the dumpster overflowing with broken junk and electronics. _Ruby`s _backed onto a set of apartments and locals liked to toss their unwanted crap before moving day, leaving him with no room to put his garbage.

A healthy set of curses spewed from his mouth into the night. Now he'd have to walk the two long blocks to the next closest one and he didn't trust that Benny wouldn't start pouring free shots for the glut of college girls that had walked in just before he left. The man could mix with the best of them, but too often he was easily led around by long legs and tight skirts.

Struggling with the overfull bags, he prayed the bottoms wouldn't rip before he tossed them. That's when he heard what sounded like struggling coming from the alley to his left. Peering into the dimly lit backstreet his eyes widened in recognition. The blond that had been hitting on him earlier was pressed up against the wall. She looked out of it. _Probably drugged._ The guy holding her by the neck was an unknown but Graham didn't care. He yelled to try and get the man`s attention.

Killian turned, ducking as the bartender took a swing at him. Good, he was angry. He could work with that. Emotion tended to cloud reason. If he could finish this quickly he could be gone before drawing any more attention to himself. Throwing a punch, the bartender simple stepped to the side and returned the favour, catching Killian in the jaw.

The hunter ignored the blast of pain that erupted from his face and in one fluid motion blocked the next punch, delivering a quick jab to the side. He grumbled internally about being interrupted in the midst of an interrogation. And by someone who could fight no less but he didn't dare look back. He could only hope the vampire was where he'd left her.

After releasing her Emma had slid to the ground sputtering and coughing. Whatever he'd poured in her mouth burned all the way down, adding to the already unsettled feeling in her gut. Spitting out what she could, she braced a hand to the wall and tried to stand. Dizzy, she stumbled away from the knock-down drag out fight taking place in front of her. She held her neck with one hand and looked for the closest dark corner she could duck into. In her current state there was no way she could outrun him and as she was having trouble standing, there was little chance she could win in a physical fight. The road was empty leaving her with few options to use as hiding spots. She stumbled around a parked car and practically fell on the corner, sagging against the solid of a lamppost.

The cut on her neck wasn't healing and her arm still burned from what he'd thrown on her. Clearly her earlier feed hadn't been enough. Worse though, she was starting to feel nauseous. So she did what she'd always done in times of stress and pushed through. She`d survived worse. She just had to keep telling herself that until she was safe.

"Where do you think you're going?"

A hand on her arm wrenched her towards the last person she wanted to see right now. Everything was hazy now though. His voice was muffled as if heard through a door and all she could think of was the pain. Her vision swam as the sound of blood roared in her ears, a steady tha-thump tha-thump. All other sound diminished to a high-pitched whine as the world narrowed to the heartbeat in front of her. She slumped to the ground, breathing heavily as a pair of bright blue eyes stood out from the shadows.

Killian let her fall, unwilling to bend for what could possibly be a trap. He'd made that mistake before and it had cost him six weeks with a broken arm and fractured ankle. No, better to wait and risk her escaping if it was a feint. He could still track her if need be.

He watched as she lay on the ground wall, head lolled to the side, eyes unfocused, sweat rolling down her face. She hadn't appeared out of sorts at the bar and he knew she hadn't fed since they met so it couldn't be Blood Haze.

Trying to gauge her reaction he kicked at her foot. When she said and did nothing he knelt and pulled out an iron spike pressing it to her skin. She flinched, black veins spreading out over her ankle from the offending metal. Any normal vampire would have been in pain at the direct contact.

Her face was pale and sweaty. Her eyes stared off into a nonexistent middle horizon. If he had to guess he would surmise she appeared drugged. But he had no idea how or when it had happened. She hadn`t appeared out of it at the bar. Perhaps she was having a bad reaction to the vervain? He'd have to ascertain if she was a blood junkie later and regardless of whether she was or not he had a possible lead on a nest. He was willing to take the risk on a possible Berserker.

He pulled out of pair of iron cuffs and snapped one around her wrist. She closed her eyes and grimaced. Pulling a hand round her back he snapped the other one on. She made no move to struggle as he hauled her to her feet and onto his shoulder. It was a short walk to his car as he as dumped her in the backseat.

Bars on the windows, bulletproof glass and a lack of locks and door handles would hopefully keep her from slipping through his fingers. He wiped the blood from his lip, wincing at the bruise forming on his face. The bartender had put up a good fight. It was his poor luck to have picked a fight with a hand-to-hand specialist and he`d eventually fallen to superior training. The man fought dirty though as Killian`s ribs could attest to.

He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair as he settled in behind the wheel. She really had messed up everything for him. He'd have to avoid the area now.

Glancing to his rear view mirror he stared at the limp body sprawled across the seats. _You`d better be worth the trouble._

.oOo.

Groggy and tired, Emma tried to clear the cobwebs from her brain. She remembered being carried and then shoved into a vehicle but everything else was a blur.

Coming to full consciousness she found herself surrounded by metal bars. Memory had her snarling as she reached out to rip her prison apart only to recoil in pain, her skin set afire for the brief moment she touched the metal. The bars were iron! Angry and hurt, she curled her hands in towards her chest. The pain accompanied by the slowly growing pit in her stomach made her dizzy, a familiar feeling she`d been lucky enough to avoid for decades.

Shuffling closer to the bars she peered out into a dim room. A light in the distance gave vague shapes to everything around her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. The large room snapped into shape and she spotted a desk with all manner of papers stacked in piles. The walls were covered in maps, diagrams and photos. To her left was a long table with a variety of weapons laid out across it. She shivered in recognition, knowing some were used to torture her kind. They were hideous instruments with sharp tines of iron and leather straps.

There was no sign of the hunter that had taken her unawares. Her eyes darted to every corner in search of him. She was normally so sharp about spotting his kind and avoiding them but she hadn't noticed a thing out of place when they were speaking in the bar. Was she losing her touch? She snorted quietly to herself. If 300 years had taught her anything, it was that sometimes there was no reason for why things happened.

Currently the only sound she could hear was the wind buffeting against a row of high windows. With no recourse to escape, all she could do was wait. The hunter would come back for the information he wanted and at some point he`d make a mistake. She`d exploit his slip-up and get the hell out of there. Even just sitting this close to iron made her skin crawl.

So she sat for several hours facing the doorway, waiting for him to return so she could properly thank him for this lovely experience. Whatever he'd knocked her out with had done a number on her though. She couldn`t have been out that long as it was still night but the pain in her stomach was something akin to that pull she felt from hunger, a coiling, twisting burn that sliced through her like a hot knife through lung tissue. She thought the trucker would have at least taken the edge off. Now though, it was as if she'd gone without for weeks. But pain was an old friend she`d spent many night with learning to endure beyond the agony. And so, to keep the room from spinning she lay down and closed her eyes, the chill of the floor a balm to her skin.

Besides, Emma clumsily smacked her down on the concrete as hard as she could. She'd be damned if a hunter was going to be the one who put her down for good. She'd spent too long running from them to be fooled by one outside a bar.

How could she have been so stupid! She bit her lip and growled. Under the radar for 80 years and she'd ruined it in one night. _Sloppy. _Head in her hands she sighed. She was getting soft. Once she got out of here she was gonna pack up and head out. Maybe swing by Vegas. That town was always good for a feed on unsuspecting tourists.

As she contemplated the many ways she`d impale the hunter on his own spikes, a draft blew past her bringing the scent of trees and earth along with subtler hints of shaving cream, soap and deodorant. There was a door open somewhere. She perked up, hearing footsteps. Closing her eyes she fought to sift out the myriad other subtle scents in the air. If she wanted to track him she wanted a blueprint to work from. Unfortunately the pain in her head kept her from focussing on anything specific.

As he drew closer she tried to relax, refusing to show any fear despite the situation. To do otherwise would be giving in and she was far too stubborn to consider it or give him the satisfaction of having defeated her. As she took a breath lights hummed to life above her bright and blinding. She held up a hand, unable to adjust her eyes, squinting as her captor strode closer.

He gave off an air of superiority as he walked towards her before squatting down, acting as if he'd already won and gotten the information out of her. He wore an unnerving look of determination on his face.

"Good, you're awake. Now perhaps we can continue our conversation."

She would have glared if she hadn't felt so horrible. Instead she turned away, a shudder of pain running down her spine. The coil of nausea circling her stomach threatened to burble up any minute. If she was lucky his hubris would damn him to failure. And if he'd unlock her cage she'd happily show him what his jugular looked like from the inside.

Killian frowned at her waxy complexion and pinched expression. He stood, circling to where he could get a better look. The dose he'd slugged down her throat shouldn't have caused anything close to this reaction. At most it should have incapacitated her for a short while. Was it possible she was allergic? He scrutinized her person, noting the scuffed boots and broken watch. The cut on her neck was still evident though that was to be expected. He couldn't see the burn on her arm but he was confident her injuries remained, leaving her weakened. He twirled the ring on his thumb, the metal warm and solid, an anchor that rooted him and reminded him of his mission.

Would she try and put on a face like she had at the bar? He doubted she'd have the energy to pull something on him.

"I'll ask again. Where is your clan?"

For a long moment she did nothing and the conversation became a waiting game. Finally after several eternities Emma shifted, sitting up as she leaned towards the bars, her hands shaking as the hum from the lights grew louder in her brain. She looked up at the hunter, eyes sore and mouth dry as she spoke, her voice cracking.

Go to hell."

With that she leaned over and vomited blood all over his leather shoes before passing out.


End file.
